Sublimation
by lunalivegood
Summary: College AU \ Elsa Arendal has problems: her sister is angry at her, there's some mysterious people asking questions about her parents, and she can't even control her own powers. Jack Frost has problems, too: Elsa took the book he needs. They might be able to help each other, but they'll have to stop bickering and learn to trust each other first, and that's a whole issue by itself.
1. Library Carrels

**Chapter 1: Library Carrels **

There's a girl in his library carrel, that's the first thing Jack notices. It's the first time he's ever seen her, and she has white blonde hair in a long, messy French braid. She's wearing a deep purple coat and emerald colored jeans; two colors that shouldn't work together but somehow do.

"Excuse me," Jack says, stopping behind her.

She jumps, dropping her pencil, and looks up him. She has very piercing blue eyes, and Jack feels uncomfortable, something he's not used to feeling.

"You're in my carrel," he says.

The girl frowns, and reaches up to push back this jeweled headband-thing she has on her head. "I didn't realize they were reserved." Her voice is cool.

Jack shifts his messenger bag on his shoulder; unused to someone disagreeing with him. When he's in the library, or on this college campus in general, people generally look right through him. If they look at him at all, it's usually because they're confused about his clothes or wondering why he's always taking off his shoes.

"They're not," He says, slowly. The girl raises her eyebrows, as if to say, _go on, I'm waiting_. "But this one's mine. I mean, I've been using it for two months now."

"Is it really that important?" she asks. "Couldn't you just use another today?" He notices, over her shoulder, that she's reading a book he's been using, "Norway: Light and Landscape", about climate change.

Jack feels a flash of irritation. He just wants to use his own carrel, dammit. He's so used to being left alone in the library that this girl's questions seem especially annoying. In fact, it's not just her questions that are annoying, it's her whole demeanor. She appears kind of stuck up, he thinks, with her fancy French braid and head band. Jack hates people like that.

"My books are here. And it's really hot everywhere else in the library, anyway." He says, narrowing his eyes at his book over her shoulder.

The girl's eyes flash. "What, so I'm supposed to overheat just so you can have your own precious carrel?"

"Most other people don't think it's that hot around here," Jack protests, cursing himself for making such a stupid comment about the temperature. People usually think he's crazy for being so particular about the heat or cold.

"Well, maybe I'm not most people," the girl snaps. All of a sudden, she looks away, her shoulders stiffening. She lets out a loud sigh and massages her forehead with her hand. So overdramatic, Jack thinks, irritated. "You know what? You can have it. I'm done for today." She stuffs her books in her bag, and pushes the chair back with a particularly loud screech.

"Thanks," Jack mutters to her rapidly retreating back—he's actually surprised that she moved. Dumping his stuff out on to the desk, he suddenly notices that the book he wanted to use, the one about Norway, is gone. He whirls around, but she's nowhere in sight. Jack sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. Looks like if he wants to have his book back, he's going to have to find that annoying girl again.

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><p>It's a three weeks into college, and Elsa still sometimes gets lost on her way to her dorm room. Today is no different—she walks out of the library, tightening her scarf against the wind, and promptly forgets where she's going.<p>

She's too busy thinking about that irritating boy in the library. The nerve of him, insisting she move! She can't believe it—the boys she's used to would have moved. It sounds arrogant, but it's true. People have always been intimidated by her. Her parents were famous scientists and academics, world renowned, who then tragically died at the peak of their careers. No one knows quite how to approach her, and that's how it's been for the past few years. And to add to that, Elsa has striking features—she's smart enough to know that. Her hair is pale blonde, almost white, and she has what her sister Anna calls an "aristocratic" nose and "graceful" eyebrows—whatever that means. Anna likes knowing these things.

Elsa feels a buzzing her pocket, and she reaches in to pull out her phone. Missed Call, the screen reads. Anna Arendal, 10 minutes ago. Elsa feels a twinge in her stomach, looking at the screen. There's a picture of Anna with it; a picture of Anna throwing back her head and laughing, snow caked into her hair. It's from last winter, when all the kids on their block were having an epic snowball fight. Elsa had hung back from the fray, lying and claiming that she was "too old" for snowball fights.

"I'll watch the younger kids," Elsa had said to Anna, who was hesitating, "Come on, go! I don't want to play anyway." Anna had grinned and run off to join the group.

Elsa should call her sister back, she knows she should. But she already knows what Anna wants to talk about—she can picture her sister's face from the last time they talked. Anna's eyes shiny with tears, her cheeks red, her hands balled into fists.

"But I _like_ him!" Anna had said. "He's funny and kind."

"But you just met him! You don't even know him!" Elsa retorted.

"Yes, I do!" Anna yelled. "Hans and I have talked a lot over the past few weeks!" She paused, fury in her eyes. "Not that _you_ would have noticed,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elsa said, her stomach sinking.

"I means, that you've barely talked to me for the past few months. Too busy preparing for _college_." Anna took a breath.

Elsa felt the conversation taking a turn that she can't let it go in. "I'm just trying to do what mom and dad would have wanted," she said quickly, and then changed the subject before Anna could say more, "And the point is, you're too young for this kind of decision. You're only fifteen! You can't just transfer schools because of a boy."

"Oh, like you know so much!" Anna snapped. Her eyes filled with tears. "You always act so superior! Like you know everything."

"I don't know what you mean," Elsa said, trying to be diplomatic.

"Yes, you do!" Anna yelled. "Everything is always about you. Ever since—" she paused, breathing hard. The silence stretches for one horrible moment. "—ever since mom and dad died!"

Elsa felt like she's going to throw up. Anna had never said these kinds of things to her directly. She'd always tiptoed around them, the same way Elsa had.

When Elsa didn't say anything, Anna went on, "You act like you're the only one who was affected. Like you know some big secret I don't."

There was a long pause. Elsa tried to think desperately of something to say, anything. But nothing came. "I have to pack," she said finally. She could see the crushing disappointment in Anna's face.

Elsa shuts her eyes, trying to force the memory out of her brain. She puts her phone back in her pocket. Looking around, she suddenly realizes she has no idea where she is. To the right is a large brick building, framed by red-gold leaves. It has two tall towers on either end. Her dorm is on the other side of that, she thinks. Hopefully it is. She's not actually sure.

10 minutes later, Elsa opens the door to her room. It seems like her roommate, Rapunzel, is already there. Her roommate's nickname is Zel, but Elsa always forgets and calls her Rapunzel instead. Sure enough, she can see a brown haired head on the top bunk of the bunk bed.

Rapunzel leans out. "Hey! How was your day?" She asks, smiling.

For a moment, Elsa contemplates just saying "Good" and leaving it at that. That's what she's been doing for the past few weeks, figuring after her fight with Anna that it's best to keep her distance from people. But she's tired after her disagreement with that boy, and ignoring the call from Anna. She doesn't have the willpower anymore. She just wants to open up to _someone_. It wouldn't hurt to actually know her roommate—just so long as she doesn't get too close and hurt her.

"Well," Elsa starts. "There was this boy at the library…"

* * *

><p>AN: Hello everyone, thanks for reading! This is going to be a College AU crossover of Frozen and Rise of the Guardians, with characters from both stories. Also, Rapunzel has a small part in this. Just for clarification, Jack and Elsa _do_ have powers in this AU, and that's definitely going to be a big part of the story.

Please, please, tell me what you think and leave a review! I especially need feedback on characterization and if things are confusing-it's hard for me to tell because I know the backstory to things, and I don't want to give too much away.

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen, Rise of the Guardians, or any of the characters.

Story image from Yori Narpati on Tumblr.


	2. A Brewing Storm

A/N: Here's the next chapter! Sorry it took me so long to update. Thank you for all of your reviews, and especially to the guest ones who I'm not able to respond directly to.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: A Storm Brewing <strong>

Jack strides down the hallway until he reaches Professor Claus's doorway. It's early morning on Sunday, but the professor said that they should meet now. He stops short when he hears voices in office—it's probably some of Claus's graduate students. Probably either Tricia—or Tooth, as Jack calls her—or Ben Easter, they're the ones that are with Claus the most.

The door opens, and Tricia walks out. "Hey, Jack!" she says cheerfully. She's carrying a large stack of papers with her as she edges out. Petite as she is, he wonders how she carries all that.

"Hey," Jack says, "you need any help with that?" He gestures to the papers.

"Oh, no," She smiles warmly. He's struck, as he always is, by how white and shiny her teeth are. He started calling her Tooth because of her teeth, and because she's planning on going to dental school after getting her masters in history here. One of the first things she said to him when they first meet was that he had very straight incisors. Coming from anyone else, Jack'd think they were flirting, but from Tooth, it's normal small talk.

"Ben's coming out soon, so he can help me." Tooth says.

The door opens again, and Easter's tall frame fills the doorway. Next to Tooth, he looks giant. Jack resists the urge to step back. Easter makes the same face that he always does when he see Jack-as if he's surprised and displeased to see him. It's subtle, but Jack can tell. After a lifetime in foster homes, he can read most people well.

"You can go in now," Easter says cooly. Jack has the urge to say that he doesn't need Easter's permission to go in, but he knows better than that. No point in proving Easter's assumptions about him.

When Professor Claus first took Jack on, Easter was the one who disapproved. Jack still remembers perfectly coming to Claus's office and hearing Easter's voice for the first time.

"Are you sure about him? He's just a kid." Easter scoffed. "A kid who wears the same sweatshirt and pants every day. He doesn't even take any of this seriously—do you really think he'd stay?" Jack had stopped short, realizing they were talking about him. "He has no track record, no previous experience."

Claus laughed softly. "Don't be jealous, Easter. There's plenty of resources to go around."

"I'm not jealous." Easter protested. "Just concerned about what you're risking. There are hundreds of kids trying to get in, and you're just handing him a spot."

"Thank you," Jack says, now, keeping a perfectly even tone of voice. He has the urge to tell Easter that he never asked for any of this-never wanted to be some fancy college professor's protegee; never even wanted to go to college. "Bye, Tooth." he says, over his shoulder.

Jack moves around Easter and through the doorway, entering Claus's office.

Claus's office looks mostly Jack like always imagined college professor's offices to look-a large dark wooden desk, hundreds of books, some fancy looking gold certificates in glass frames. The only thing that is different is the vintage toys that sit on many of shelves, which Claus collects. Tooth told Jack that he has an even bigger collection at home.

"There are so many, that his wife makes him give them to children in the neighborhood," Tooth said once.

"Jack," Claus turns from his computer at his desk, "Take a seat," he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "How do you like college?"

"I like it," Jack says, "sir." He adds as an after thought. He feels a bit stiff-he doesn't have much practice with authority figures and he didn't have a father growing up. Also, Claus has done a lot for him, and he's not used to be indebted to anyone.

"That's good to hear. Classes aren't too difficult?" Claus raises his eyebrows.

"No, they're fine so far." That's true-Jack expected college classes to be harder than they are so far. College always seemed to so unreachable, so foreign to someone like him. It's weird to find out that most college students aren't really that smarter than him.

"Good, good," Claus smiles broadly. It always makes Jack uncomfortable when Claus tries to take on this buddy-buddy, fatherly role with him. Claus probably does it because he doesn't have any kids himself.

Claus switches topics, to Jack's relief. "Have you made any progress on Scandinavian history, like we talked about last time?"

"I've been reading some norwegian myths recently. And also about The Snow Queen fairytale by Hans Christian Anderson."

"Nordic history, huh?" Claus asks. "Do you need any help getting materials?"

Jack has to think for a second. "I don't think so...I just was using this pretty good book recently, but someone took it." The girl's face flashes through his mind.

"You should try to get it back, then." Claus says.

"Yeah, I will," Jack agrees. He'll just have to track down that girl again. Maybe she'll show up at his carrel again or something. She seemed very indignant last time; she'll probably do again just to make a point.

There's an awkward pause, and Jack tries to think of something to say. He's not very experienced in making small talk or opening up to someone.

"Well, tell me how it goes." Claus says. "I'll see you in a couple weeks."

"Yep, see you," Jack says, getting up. He feels like he should thank Claus again for how he's helped him, but he's done it before. He figures that the only way to truly thank Claus for his help is to do well in college and work on Claus's research projects. He needs to prove to Claus and to everyone else-Sandy especially-that he deserves to be at the University just as much as all the other students.

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><p>Elsa puts her calculator down with a sigh. After a hour or so of work, she's finally done with her environmental history report. She knows most people would think she's insane for waking up on a Sunday morning, but it's just how she works. No fun, her sister Anna would say. Elsa likes to think she's just dedicated, but sometimes she wonders if Anna is right.<p>

Her eyes fall on one of her books. It's the book called "Norway: Light and Landscape", and it's about old fairytales and myths. She found it in that carrel in the library a few days ago-the one that that boy claimed was "his". She'd chosen the carrel in the first place because she noticed the book. The last time she had seen it, her mother was reading it the week before she died. Elsa remembered it because she'd never seen her mother read something non-scientific before, except maybe the newspaper.

Elsa opens the book to the first few pages. She's been busy enough since she got it that she hasn't had a chance to look at it. She stares at the first few sentences, willing them to tell her something. She wants so badly to understand what her mom was thinking, feeling. She knew her parents for 15 years, but sometimes it feels like she barely knew them. She's missed them especially since graduating from high school. College is confusing and Anna is even more confusing and sometimes all she wants is someone to tell her that things are going to be okay.

Elsa closes the book with a snap. There's no use looking at it now-she's tired of reading and she knows nothing about mythology or history anyway. She never really paid attention to history or literature in high school, and so she has no idea what the "historical context for Norse literature" is or what "scandinavian stylistic choices" are. She wishes that there was someone to explain to her what this book is actually about.

She gathers her stuff up, and puts in it her backpack. It's time to get some breakfast. She leaves the floor lounge, putting on her backpack and buttoning her coat.

She's just stepped outside the door when her phone begins to ring. Still walking, she fishes it out of her pocket. Anna Arendal, the screen reads, with a picture of Anna on it; one that Elsa took last year during a neighborhood snowball fight. Staring at her sister's picture, she wavers. She'll just keep calling until I pick up, Elsa thinks.

"Anna," she says, lifting the phone to her ear.

"Elsa," her sister voice jumps out of the phone. "You _finally_ picked up." Elsa can feel herself softening just at the sound of her sister's voice.

"I didn't see your call before," Elsa says quickly-which is true, actually.

"Aunt Flora is mad at you," Anna launches straight into conversation, dismissing any pleasantries.

"Oh." Elsa winces. "Why?"

"You left pretty suddenly," Anna says. "You basically didn't say goodbye to her or Uncle Nils."

Elsa doesn't know what to say. The sick-to-her-stomach feeling is back-why did she answer the phone, knowing what was coming? "I didn't mean to," she protests lamely. She knows that's a lie. She left the house as quickly possible-her and Anna's fight had left a dark cloud over the whole house.

"Have you even talked to her?" Anna presses.

"No, I haven't," Elsa admits. A silence ensues.

"I don't understand what you're doing!" Anna bursts out. "Are you trying to forget all of us? Do you want to pretend we're not here?"

"It's complicated," Elsa says. But is it? she thinks to herself. Maybe she's just making things too complex. Maybe she can just be a normal college student. With a normal life.

"That's what you said about Hans!" Anna cries out. "Why does it have to be complicated? Why do you always have to say that?"

"Hans is a completely different issue," Elsa says.

"No, he's not," Anna says stubbornly. "You've been ignoring us and trying to get away ever since I told you about him. Why? Why is it so bad that I love him?"

"You're too young to make a decision like this," Elsa protests.

"How would _you_ know?" Anna shoots back. "What do you know about love?"

That throws Elsa off guard for a beat. "What I know is that you're too young to be transferring schools just because of a boy." She says.

"Well, too, bad." Anna snaps. "Because I already did!"

"What?!" Elsa almost yells.

"I transferred to Hans' school last week." Anna says, triumphantly.

"Are you crazy? Weston Academy is a much, much better school than Central High is." Elsa feels her temples throbbing, and all of a sudden, she feels a strong, cool breeze. "How could you just throw away your education?"

"I just want to do something different, for once in my life!" Anna retorts. "Why do you have to act like everything I want is wrong?"

"Do you think mom and dad would want you to do this?" Elsa says. The breeze has turned into a wind now, and is pulling her hair this way and that.

"I don't know what they would want, because, newsflash, Elsa-they're _dead_. And you don't know what they would have wanted anymore than I do, so stop acting like you do."

_Of course_ I know they're dead, Elsa thinks to Anna. _Of course_ I know I don't know what they would want. That's why I try to hard-because I have no idea what to do anymore and it terrifies me. I'm supposed to keep you safe and yet I can't even keep you safe from myself.

There is a pounding in her head, insistent and heavy. She realizes suddenly that she is gripping the phone much too tight, the metal digging into her palm. The wind has turned into a roar in her ears and the hand that holds her phone is cold. Too cold, she thinks, with a sudden realization.

"Elsa?" Anna says, but it sounds like her voice is a million miles away. "Elsa, goddammit, don't you dare hang up on me, you can't-"

_Beep_. Elsa pushes the red bottom and her sister's voice is gone.

She stares down at the phone in her hand in horror. It is covered in ice. The pounding from her head and the wind drowns out all noise, filling her ears. She looks down and sees, radiating out from her feet, tendrils of frost. They are snaking out at an impossible speed.

Oh no- Elsa thinks. This can't keep happening. No no no no-

"Hey!" A familiar voice calls out from behind her. Elsa recognizes it instantly, her stomach dropping. It's the boy from the library.

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading. Feedback means the world to me, please review!


	3. The Deal

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, especially to the guest reviewers who I can't respond to!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Deal<strong>

Please don't have noticed. Please. Please-

Elsa stuffs her phone in her pocket. Her hands are shaking. She turns around, and the boy from the library is standing behind her, staring. His hair is the whitest she's ever seen, and he's wearing a scarf and a blue sweatshirt.

"Hi," she says, managing to get the word out without her voice trembling. It takes all the willpower she has to not look down to see if the frost is still spreading around her feet. The pounding in her head is still so loud it feels like she's underwater.

"Hey," The guy says again. He smiles at her-he has a nice smile, she notices that even through it all. "You're the girl from the library, right?"

Breathe in, breathe out, Elsa tells herself. He probably didn't notice anything-so many guys are oblivious anyway. Maybe he wants to ask her out-not ask her about the weird frost around her. "Yes," she says shortly.

"Yeah, well, there was a book at the library carrel, right? Do you have it?" He asks. She notices, her heart quickening, that the wind she generated is ruffling his hair. Breathe in, breathe out, she reminds herself. Control your emotions, make your powers disappear.

"I didn't realize it was yours," Elsa says stiffly. In the back of her head, a voice is saying that she should be nicer to him, but she doesn't have enough energy to be nice right now.

He lets out a short laugh. "Yeah, that seems to be a pattern."

"What?" Elsa asks.

He raises his eyebrows. "I mean, first the carrel, now the book?"

"Right." Stupid, Elsa thinks. If you weren't so out of it you would have realized that. You need to focus.

"Anyway, do you have the book?" He asks. He's just wearing a sweatshirt, and she wonders if he's cold. He's not showing it, though-unable to feel cold herself, she's become a student of people's responses to temperature: hunched shoulders, hands in pockets, arms around bodies, kicking feet.

"Yes, I do," Elsa says. There's a pause, and the guy looks like he's waiting for something. Elsa restrains herself in the silence from looking down at her feet.

"Well...can I have it, then?" The guy asks.

"Oh!" Elsa realizes that's what he's waiting for. "Actually, I checked it out."

"You checked it out?" He repeats, as if he's not understanding.

Elsa raises her chin. The pounding in her ears has mostly gone away. "I still need to read it." After giving up the carrel, she's not going to give up the book so easily. Especially since it was what her mother was reading before she died. She needs it. More than he does, anyway.

He frowns. "Are you serious? I had it first."

"Well, maybe you should have checked it out instead of leaving it lying around?" Elsa challenges. It's like he assumes that just because he looked at it before it's his.

"That's ridiculous," he insists.

"I need it." Elsa says.

"Well, I need it too." he counters.

Elsa stares at him for a moment. She can hear her pulse slowing, finally. The breeze is barely stirring his hair now. Nothing like an argument to distract her. "I can give it to you after I finish it. In about 4 weeks?"

"Are you kidding me?" He looks incredulous. "How about 1 week?"

Elsa frowns. "3 weeks." She shoots back.

"2 weeks," he counters. "Why do you need it so long? It's not like it's a long book."

Elsa shifts her feet-she doesn't see why she has to explain herself to this rude guy, even if he is attractive. "It's not really my thing, literature. I don't understand what they're talking about."

He looks confused for a moment, as if he's never met someone before who doesn't understand fiction. "I could..." he thinks for a second, "You could tell me what you don't understand and I could explain it to you. If that would mean you'd give it back faster."

That would be helpful, Elsa realizes. "Alright," she says grudgingly.

"Great," he says. "I'm Jack, by the way."

"I'm Elsa," she says, stepping forward to shake his hand. "Elsa Arend-Oh!" her foot slips, and she almost falls, catching herself just in time.

"Whoa, are you ok?" he takes a step towards her.

"Yeah," she looks down, catching her breath. The frost tendrils have turned into a thin layer of ice in a circle around her feet. The ice is melting somewhat where her feet are, which must have been why she slipped.

"That's weird," he says, looking down too.

"Must have been a water spill, or something," she says, too quickly. A water spill? she thinks, irritated at herself. Really? That's what you could come up with, Elsa? How does that explain the fact that it's frozen? The guy-no, Jack, she corrects herself-is still staring down at the ice.

"Jack, right?" she says, hoping to take his mind off the ice. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears again.

"Yeah," he says, looking up. "You're Elsa?" she nods. "When do you want to meet?"

"Tuesday? At noon?" she offers.

"Cool," he says. "At my library carrel?" He smirks.

Elsa allows herself to smile. "It's not yours, but fine." There's a pause. "It was nice meeting you." Elsa says hurriedly. She doesn't want there to be any silence in the conversation-too much time for him to wonder about the ice.

"Yeah," he sticks his hands in his pockets. "See you around, Elsa."

"See you," she responds, watching him turn to go. She's glad he didn't stick around and try to prolong the conversation, but at the same time, she's a little disappointed too.

Just be grateful he seem didn't notice anything weird, she tells herself. She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales as he rounds the corner and disappears from sight. Who cares if he wants to talk to you or not, as long as he doesn't find out your secret?

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><p>"Anna?" Anna looks up, sniffing. Hans stands over, blocking out the sun with his face shadowed. She's sitting in the grass, where's she's been for a last five minutes since Elsa hung up on her.<p>

"Oh, hi." She says, straightening. She runs a hand through her hair, trying to straighten it.

"Are you alright?" he says. He holds out a hand. She takes it, gratefully, and gets to her feet. He's so strong, she thinks, for the millionth time. Sometimes she still can't believe, when she looks at Hans, that's he's hers-just hers. His hair is the most gorgeous brown-red color she's ever seen and her hand feels small in his.

She puts her phone in her pocket. "I called Elsa," she says, as an explanation.

"What did she say?" he asks.

"She doesn't approve. Still!" Anna says. She bites her lip. "And she yelled at me for transferring."

"I'm sorry, Anna," Hans puts his arm around her. "I feel so terrible about this. Like it's my fault."

"No!" Anna looks up at him, frowning. She doesn't want-she can't-have Hans think that. She doesn't want their relationship to always be clouded by Elsa's disapproval. This is the one good thing that's happened to her in months, and she can't have anything mess it up. "I choose to transfer, remember?"

"I know, Anna," Hans says. "But I still feel responsible."

They stand that way for a moment, Hans' arm around her, Anna leaning slightly into him. She tries to remember the good things about this moment-the autumn sun, the solidness of Hans next to her. They've been dating for a couple months now, but this is the first really serious relationship she's had, so it still feels new.

"Oh!" Anna remembers suddenly. "I didn't get to tell Elsa about Mr. Weselton."

"You didn't?" Hans looks concerned.

"No, she barely let me get a word in edgewise, like I said. I mean, I don't even know why she'd know anything about him anyway," she adds.

"I still think you should talk about it with her." Hans says. "The questions that he was asking about your parents at your sister's graduation party sounded very weird."

"I know, I know," Anna says. "But it's weird talking to Elsa about our parents. Like I said before. You'd think it'd be easier to talk about it because we're both their kids. But it's like there's a wall between us about them."

"You should still try, right?" Hans says.

"Of course, yeah." Anna admits. "I will."

Anna leans her head on his shoulder. "Hey, my sister's graduation party. That's where we met, remember?"

"Of course," Hans answers. "I remember. I felt like I'd known you forever, even though we'd just met." He adds, quietly. It's when he says things like this that make Anna feel like her stomach is tying itself into knots.

"I know," Anna says. There's a pause.

"Anna?"

"What?"

"So, Elsa didn't say anything about your parents when you talked to her?" Hans asks, stepping back slightly to face Anna.

Anna frowns. "I mean, she said that our parents wouldn't have approved of me transferring. But that wasn't a big part of it."

"I was just asking because you just said she never talks about them," Hans says smoothly.

"Oh," Anna thinks for a moment. "Well, she brings them up when it helps her. Like when she wants to lecture me and tell me what to do."

"Hmm. Do you think she knew them better than you?"

Anna looks at Hans, a little surprised that he would ask, and a little hurt, too. "No, of course not. Hans, can we talk something else? Please?" Anna leans on his shoulder. "I just don't want to think about this anymore."

"Of course," he says, easily. "I don't want to upset you."

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><p>AN: Woo, Elsa and Jack meet again! Sorry if you were hoping for the big reveal, but that's going to come at a later time-it'll be exciting, I promise. And what is Hans up to? I hope Anna doesn't seem to gullible in this, obviously we all know he's bad, but she doesn't yet. I'm trying to make him suspicious without being too much. And who is Mr. Weselton?

This chapter is a bit short, but the next one will be longer. Sorry, it's just that this was the logical place to cut it off. The next chapter should be coming very very soon.

Feedback is lovely and you should give it! It means I know people are reading and helps me improve :)


	4. Suspicious Activity

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing the last chapter!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Suspicious Activity <strong>

Jack gets to the carrel first on Tuesday. It's a little cramped, he thinks, as he drags another chair over from one of the tables so they can both sit. He's surprised she's not here first—she seems like the type. He sits down to wait, wondering what this is going to be like.

He thinks back to their last meeting. She had a funny look on her face when she finally turned around to greet him. It was probably just because of the wind, he thinks. The wind had been particularly strong at that moment, and it was blowing her hair in her face. Blowing his hair, too, he remembers.

The ice was odd, too. He hadn't realized he'd been sending ice out-usually when he does it now it's conscious. He'll get a tingling feeling in his fingers and toes. He hasn't sent out ice or frost without realizing it in a long time now. Over the years, he trained himself to control his powers by testing them out and seeing the limits of what he could do. In the beginning, he had some close calls—a couple of kids who tried to go after him after he froze their hair or put ice under their feet—, but it paid off in the end. It's unsettling to think that after all that time, he still can't control himself. Like he's going backwards.

Elsa comes around the corner. She's wearing a dark red dress with tights and has her hair perched on top of her head in a bun. So proper, he thinks to himself. "Hi," she says.

"Hey," he says. She sits down at the chair next to him, and begins pulling things out of her bag.

"Sorry I'm late," she puts the book on the desk, along with a notebook and a pencil case. "Chemistry lab went late."

"You're a science person," he says, partly a question, partly a statement.

"Yes," she says, opening the notebook. She looks up at him. "What do you do?"

"History," he answers. "And maybe a minor in norwegian studies."

"Are you a...second year?"

"No, first year. But I'm trying to finish in three years."

"Why?" She asks, sounding surprised.

"College is pretty expensive." he says. "I'm trying to get in, get my degree and get out."

"Oh," she looks down, as if that never occurred to her before. Probably has rich parents. She seems like the type—fancy, professional-looking clothes, and a weird way of talking. He'd never met so many rich kids before he got here, with their important parents and far-away vacation spots.

"So," she says, recovering. "Should we start?"

Jack leans back slightly in his chair. "What don't you understand?"

"Kind of...all of it, honestly." she says. "Maybe you could just start by summarizing?"

"They're just talking about how the myth of The Snow Queen was influenced by Scandinavian culture. And also by Danish history at that time." He says, watching as she writes something down in her notebook. "And also part of the authors' thesis is the idea that the Snow Queen was a real person with powers over ice."

"Really?" She stops writing and looks up. "They think that a person can control ice?"

Looking at her surprised face, he can't help grinning. If only you knew who you were talking to, he thinks. I'm living proof that a person can control ice and snow. "Yeah, that's the controversial part of the book. A lot of people said that they should be shunned from academia for making that argument."

"So, they're making a scientific argument too? Not just a literature one?" She persists. "Because the idea of being able to conjure and control ice and snow has huge scientific implications."

"If that's how you want to think about it, sure." He shrugs. More like implications of being a freak, he thinks, remembering how his first foster parents reacted when he showed them his powers. He'd been 5 at the time, innocent of the fact that those powers made him different.

She gives him a look that seems to say that he's not taking the idea seriously enough, which Jack finds hilarious. "It _does_ have huge scientific implications." she says, slightly indignant. Jack has to stifle a laugh.

"Is something funny?" Elsa persists.

"Nothing," Jack says, forcing a straight face. She's so touchy, he thinks.

"It would change someone's whole life," Elsa says, a furrow appearing in her brow. "If they had powers. I mean, that would change not just physics, but chemistry and biology too. You'd have to come up with an explanation for how they could just...conjure solid water out of thin air."

"Yeah, and people would freak, too," Jack says, and Elsa meets his eyes, drawn out of her thoughts. "Right? People would think that there was something wrong with you or themselves if they saw you having ice powers. They'd be angry and they'd try to reject you."

"Angry?" Elsa raises her eyebrows.

Jack freezes. Damnit, he shouldn't have said so much. "I mean, people don't like things that they don't understand. Obviously—like you said about all the science stuff-people wouldn't understand ice powers, they don't make sense. So they'd be angry. Angry at themselves for not understanding, and they'd take it out on you."

"That makes sense," Elsa says. "It'd be hard to tell though, unless there actually was someone with powers." Some strands of her hair has fallen out of her bun, and he thinks that it looks better that way, slightly messy.

"There'd probably be good things about having powers, though," Jack continues, unable to stop himself. He's saying too much, but it's sort of freeing to talk about ice powers as if they're an abstract thing and not personal.

"Like what?" Elsa looks skeptical.

"Like...you could trick people. If you didn't like someone, you could put ice under their feet and they'd slip a little." He grins, remembering the tricks he played on guys who bullied him in the parks before he had his growth spurt—fingers tipped with frost, ice under their sneakers when they were trying to make a lay up.

"Is everything a joke to you?" Elsa asks cooly. She pushes the loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Obviously," Jack smiles at her. She returns his smile by pressing her lips together into a line. Wow, he thinks. Brrr. "Why do say that?" He asks, switching tack.

"Well, you were laughing before when I was talking about the science." She says persistently. "Weren't you?"

Think fast, Jack tells himself. "I was uh—I was thinking about the book actually. Some parts of it are pretty funny." He's grateful for his years of needing to talk his way out of tight situations with his powers by lying. She's reading the book, but at least now she'll just think he has a weird sense of humor.

Elsa frowns. "Oh, ok." She doesn't look very convinced, but she doesn't question him. She also has stopped looking pissed off, at least. "You seem to have thought about having powers over ice and snow a lot..." She says, slowly.

"What do you mean?" He asks, playing dumb.

"You were talking about how people would react if a person had powers. And also about how you could use those powers?"

"Yeah, I just think it's an interesting idea, that's all." He lies smoothly. "I've only thought about it because I was reading the book. Why are you interested in this book, anyway?" He asks, hoping to change the topic. "Since you didn't know about the science part."

She looks down. "My mom was reading it. A while ago."

"Why don't you just ask her then?"

"She's...dead." She says quietly. "Both my parents died when I was fifteen. My mother was reading the book the week before she died," she elaborates.

"I'm sorry," Jack says. He feels kinda guilty for pegging her as just a rich girl before, even if she is uptight.

"Thanks," she says. There's a short silence.

"I—," Jack starts.

"It's ok, you don't have to say anything," she says quickly, interrupting. "I understand that most people don't know what to say. We should just go back to the book."

"Actually," Jack says. "I was going to say that I_ do_ understand. I don't have parents." As soon as the words are out of his mouth he wonders why he said them. He doesn't usually talk to people about his family—or he should say, his lack of family. "You don't?" she looks surprised.

"No, I don't know anything about my family. I've been in foster homes my whole life."

She looks down, as if she's considering this. "I've never meet someone before who didn't have both of their parents too."

"Well, I knew a lot of them," Jack says, with grim humor.

She nods. "That make sense."

"So, you wanted to read the book because of your mom?" he asks.

"Yeah, I know it doesn't make sense," she says quickly. "It probably wasn't very important or anything. I don't think that there's anything personal to her in the book." She says this almost like she's trying to convince herself.

"No, I get it." Jack says.

She meets his gaze, then looks down at her watch. "I'm sorry, but I actually have to go soon. I have to meet up for a group project."

"Okay," Jack said. "Are we done then?"

"I'm not sure..." she says. "I guess I might have more questions." She looks conflicted.

"Why don't I give you my number?" he suggests, surprising himself. He's not usually the one to volunteer things. "Then you can text me if you have questions."

"Yes, let's do that," she says, looking relieved at his suggestion. She rummages through her bag and fishes her phone out, handing it to him. He puts his name and number into it, and gives it back to her. His hand brushes hers, and he's surprised by how warm her hand is.

"See you later," she says, putting her notebook, book and pencil case back into her bag.

"See you," he says, watching her go. He doesn't even know why he gave her his phone number—she seems uptight and doesn't know to take a joke. Not usually someone who he would try to spend more time with, but that's what he just volunteered to do.

* * *

><p>Elsa's heartbeat is pounding her ears again as she walks to the upper level of the library. To be perfectly honest, she doesn't have to meet her group for their project for another 10 minutes. But the minute he mentioned the theory that the Snow Queen was a real person with real powers, she felt faint. Jack mentioning ice and snow powers out loud had made her feel even more on edge. She's never discussed the possibility with anyone besides her parents. She avoided conversations about magical things, even with her friends. She even refused to read the Harry Potter books, and when any one brought up anything supernatural, she would insist that it wasn't "scientifically valid".<p>

"Lighten up," people told her in the past, when she said that it wasn't possible conjure things out of thin air. "It's just fiction." But no one ever questioned her stubbornness because she established herself early on as the "scientists' daughter", the excessively rational and science-y one. To make sure no one asked questions, she avoided literature like the plague in high school.

Is that why my mother was reading the book? She wonders. Because it talked about another person with ice and snow powers? Was my mother investigating my powers?

She doesn't know what to think. Her mother-both her parents, actually-never talked about her powers. The only times they ever mentioned her powers in the years before they died was to tell her to conceal her powers.

"You need to control your emotions," she remembers her mother saying quietly over the kitchen table, the day after she had accidentally hurt Anna. "I think that's the secret to controlling your powers, Elsa. You can't express your emotions through them."

"But, I don't know how to!" Elsa had said, her eyes filling with tears. She had been only 8 at the time. "What do I do?" she looked at her hands.

"Sweetheart," her mother had pulled her into an embrace. "I know you can do it. You can be strong."

Before The Accident—as Elsa had taken to calling it in her head—her parents had known about her powers but had mostly ignored them, hoping that they were something that she would "grow out of". After, the conversation about concealing her powers had simply been repeated again with different variations. Control your emotions, her parents said—be logical, not emotional. That was the refrain. Elsa would have resented it, but she was pretty sure they were right. She didn't have the luxury of being flighty and dramatic, like her sister did.

She and her parents never discussed her powers beyond that conversation. Elsa had no idea what her parents had really thought about her powers. As scientists, she knew the powers defied all their reasoning and training. But the book indicates that maybe her mother was trying to research her powers. Maybe there's other reports of people like me, Elsa thinks. She can't help feeling a bit of hope flicker. It's an odd feeling. She's never allowed herself to hope that there were others like her before—that she wasn't alone. She's always assumed that her parents had the same attitude as her—until now.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think and drop a review! Otherwise I don't really know if people actually are interested in this story, or what you think (praise, constructive criticism, suggestions, etc).

Also, the story's going to start speeding up soon, I just needed to lay some groundwork with Jack and Elsa's interactions and Elsa and Anna fighting in these first few chapters. Elsa's powers are going to become a big part of the story very very soon.


	5. Lost and Found

**Chapter 5: Lost and Found **

As the days pass, Elsa can't stop thinking about her conversation with Jack. As nervous as it made her to talk about her powers with him, even if he didn't know she had powers, it was also oddly exhilarating. It was also nice to talk with him about their parents. That was the only time in the conversation when he stopped seeming so arrogant and glib and started acting like a real person.

"Whatever happened to that boy in the library?" Rapunzel asks Elsa one night when they both happen to be getting ready for bed at the same time.

Elsa pulls her sweater over her head and drops it in the bottom drawer of her dresser. "I have his book," she says. "And he helped me understand parts of it, and I'm going to give it to when I'm done."

"So you saw him again?" Rapunzel asks, pulling her nightgown over her head. Elsa admires Rapunzel's nightgowns, with their soft colors and lacey edges. She wears skirts and dresses and flats, but she's never been quite so assured in her femininity to wear something like that.

"Yes, I did." Elsa pulls on her dark blue pajama shirt. She tends to wear darker colors-blues and emeralds and maroons.

"Are you going to see him again?" Rapunzel asks, taking up a brush to her short brown hair.

"Probably," Elsa says. She does have some more questions about the book. She reaches for her cell phone, and scrolls to the name Jack Frost in her contacts. _I actually do have more questions, _she types. _Can we meet sometime? _She presses the send button.

"Is he cute?" Rapunzel asks, putting her brush down and moving to her dresser.

"Yeah," Elsa says, plugging her phone into the charger. "But a little arrogant, too. He's one of those guys who's attractive and definitely knows it."

Rapunzel lets out a laugh. "I know what you're talking about! My boyfriend used to complain about his graduation photos. He said his nose looked weird in them and that they didn't do him justice."

"What's his name, again?" Elsa asks. "I know you said it before, sorry."

"Flynn." Rapunzel says. "And I shouldn't say this, but the ones who know it are the hottest. Also the most annoying, but still." Elsa smiles.

* * *

><p>Anna adjusts her backpack strap on her, and checks her phone. Shit, she's going to be late for the train. If she misses the train, her whole plan will be ruined. If Elsa could see me, she thinks, she would probably tell me how important it is to be punctual.<p>

It's been over a week she last talked to her sister. After their last phone conversation, Anna decided that they need to talk to face to face. She's done with Elsa shutting her out. It's easy for Elsa to stay in her ivory tower off a _college_ and pretend like Anna doesn't exist, but it's horribly unfair and Anna is done with that. She's going to Chicago to talk to her sister. Elsa can't hide from her forever. All Anna has to do is get to Chicago first.

That might be difficult, she thinks, checking her phone. 2 minutes till the train is supposed to get to the stop. She's not going to make it. Ugh. Maybe she should have accepted Hans' offer to drive her. He'd encouraged her to visit Elsa and talk to her, especially after Duke Wesealton, an old acquaintance of their parents, had been asking questions. Maybe Elsa knows something about it, Hans had said. But Anna had insisted on going alone-this is something between me and Elsa, she'd said.

"Excuse me," a voice says from behind her. She steps to the right, and glances behind her. She recognizes Kristoff, a guy who's in her grade at the high school. They're in the same English class, and they've been friendly. She thinks they might become friends, if give time.

"Kristoff!" She says, smiling brightly at him. An idea pops into her head.

"Hey, Anna," Kristoff says, looking surprised at her enthusiastic greeting.

"How are you?" She asks.

"I'm good," he stops walking. He's holding car keys in one hand, she notices.

"Are you going some where?" She gestures to his keys.

"I'm going to Chicago," he says, shortly. He looks like he wants to keep walking, but she plows ahead.

"That's great!" she says enthusiastically. "I am too, actually."

"Cool," Kristoff sticks his hands in his pockets.

Anna makes a show of checking her watch and assumes her most pained expression. "You know, I think I'm going to miss the train. Could you do me a _huge _favor and give me a ride?"

"Um," Kristoff looks hesitant.

"Please?" Anna capitalizes on his hesitation.

"Alright, okay." Kristoff says. "But I have to pick something up first, and then I can drop you off."

"Great!" Anna says. "You're the best."

Kristoff starts walking again. "My car is down the block," he says. Anna hitches her backpack higher on her shoulder.

"Why are you going into the city?" Kristoff asks.

"I need to see my sister. She's a student at University of Chicago." Kristoff nods, seeming satisfied with the answer. Anna hopes he's not going to ask more than that. He might be uncomfortable driving her if he knew that she was just showing up at her sister's school uninvited.

"Why are you going to the city?"

"My dad runs a ice cube manufacturing plant. One of the turning mechanisms on one of the machines broke and we need to replace it." Kristoff turns towards red truck parked at the curb,

"Oh, I never thought about ice being manufactured before." Anna says.

"Yeah, it's not something most people think about, I guess," he says, going around the car and climbing in. Anna waits at the passenger door for him to lean over and unlock the door.

"Thanks," she says, climbing in. It's a bit higher off the ground than she's used to, because it's a truck. The seats of the cab are well-worn, some of the leather cracked in places. Anna likes the way it looks.

"You can put your stuff at your feet," Kristoff says. She sets her backpack down. There's a ragged-looking squirrel stuffed animal on the floor as well. Maybe chew toy, she thinks.

"What's this?" she asks, holding it up.

"Oh, that's my dog's. Sven's." Kristoff smiles, seeing it. "You can just leave it on the floor."

"What kind of dog?" she asks.

"He's a bernese mountain dog," Kristoff says. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and shows her the lock screen. "See." There's a black, white, and brown dog on it.

"He looks so nice!" Anna says.

"Yeah, Sven's a great dog. The best." Kristoff smiles again, and it strikes Anna that this is the most pleased she's ever seen Kristoff look. He puts his phone back in his pocket, and starts backing the truck out of the parking space. Anna notices there's nothing else in the cabin besides that chew toy. The interior is worn but clean and neat.

Anna tries to think of something to say as Kristoff drives down the street. It's going to be a long drive to Chicago. She watches the shops of main street go by.

"You're dating Hans Soder, right?" Kristoff asks, glancing over at her, after a few minutes.

Anna sits up straighter. "Yeah, we're together."

"Did you meet in class, or something?" He asks. Anna wonders if he's actually interested in the answer or if he's just trying to be polite. He doesn't seem like a very talkative person normally.

"No, we met at my sister's graduation party. In June."

"And you happened to be transferring to our school?" Kristoff asks, merging onto the freeway.

"Actually, I transferred schools to be with Hans." Anna realizes that this is the first time she's told any from her new school this. Most of the people she knows are through Hans, and they obviously already know why transferred.

"Are you serious?" Kristoff looks at her, away from the road.

"Yes." Anna says.

Kristoff looks back at the road, and blows air out of his mouth. "Huh." He adjusts his hands on the steering wheel. "You know, I don't know you that well, but that seems kinda crazy."

"It's not crazy." Anna says, a bit outraged.

"It's seems like it to me," Kristoff says persistently.

"Why?" Anna asks.

"You don't need to be at the same school just because you're in a relationship." Kristoff says.

"Obviously, I know that. But we _wanted _to be at the same school together. We're committed to each other, we love each other!"

"How do you _know_ that he loves you?" Kristoff asks, raising his eyebrows.

"That's none of your business." Anna says hotly. "But for your information, I do know that he loves me!" There's a short silence. She glares at the windshield, watching the freeway disappear underneath their car. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't know." Kristoff runs a hand through his hair. "It just sounds like a bad decision, and you seem like a nice person."

"I can make my own decisions, ok?" Anna asks. "Gosh, you sound like my sister."

"Didn't you say you were seeing her today?"

"Yes," Anna says shortly.

"So, she doesn't like you transferring?"

"I don't really want to talk about this," Anna says, frustrated. "You made your opinion pretty clear, okay?"

"Fine," Kristoff says, and leans over hit a button on the radio. Loud guitar music fills the car. Great, Anna thinks. This really _is_ going to be a long ride.

The next fifty minutes passes by only punctuated by the changing songs on the radio-lots of country, some guitar solos-and the cars on the freeway outside. Anna waits inside the car while Kristoff goes inside a warehouse to get his equipment. She wonders where Elsa will be when she gets there. She's been hoping that Elsa will be in her room. That's where she'll check first.

The car dips as Kristoff loads the equipment into the back. "Are you going to need a ride back?" Kristoff asks as he gets back in. It's the only thing he's said to her since he turned on the radio, except a muttered "Just 15 minutes" when he got out to get the equipment.

"Yes, thank you." Anna says.

* * *

><p>Elsa settles into her chair. She's in the entryway of chemistry building, which has armchairs arranged in the shape of diamonds and green and gold striped carpeting. She takes the book Norway: Light and Landscape out of her bag and places it on the arm of the chair.<p>

"Hey," Jack strides into the entryway and steps into the diamond of chairs. He drops into the chair next to her.

"Hi," Elsa says. Jack sprawls his legs out in front of him. He's wearing a grey t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket, and Elsa realizes that she never knew how attractive she finds that until just this moment. "So," she says, covering up her staring, and gesturing to the book. "I was wondering about the Snow Queen idea you were talking about."

"What part of it?" Jack asks, sitting up slightly and pushing his hair back with a hand. He reaches out and takes the book from her chair. Unconsciously, she leans back a bit.

"They thought she was a real person, right? Who did they think she was?" Elsa asks.

"Right, so there's The Snow Queen fairytale," Jack starts thumbing through the book. "And Hans Christian Anderson supposedly wrote it because of a woman."

"Who's Hans Christian Anderson?" Elsa asks. "I know I've heard of him before."

Jack raises his eyebrows. "You don't know who Hans Christian Anderson is," he says, half question and half statement.

"No," Elsa says, heat rising in her cheeks. She hopes he doesn't notice. She hates not knowing something, even if it's a subject she literally avoided like the plague throughout her schooling. That's how stubborn she is.

"He's a danish writer-he wrote a lot of fairytales and stuff, like The Little Mermaid," Jack says. "You really didn't know who he was?"

"I avoided literature in high school," Elsa admits.

"That's a crime," Jack says. "Literature is the only good thing about school,"

So arrogant, Elsa thinks. His favorite subject is the only good subject, of course. "I'm surprised you feel so strongly about something," she lobbies back at him.

"Yeah?" Jack says, smiling a half smile.

"Since you think everything is a joke," Elsa says, raising her eyebrows. It's only two minutes into their conversation and already he's getting on her nerves again. Jack leans back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You don't know me," Jack says, "And even if you did, just because I don't care about the same things _you_ do doesn't mean I don't take things seriously."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Elsa says, irritated.

"I'm guessing you're rich, and you have family to support you," Jack uncrosses his arms and leans forward. "So you don't have to worry about money, about graduating-you grew up with people who had your back. Meaning, you don't have to care about the things I do."

Elsa feels her mouth fall open. "Excuse me! You don't know those things about me."

"I'm just saying, there are more important things to be serious about than the ones you're getting all _offended_ about," Jack says. "And besides, you're the one who's assuming they know things about me first." Elsa snaps her mouth shut, aware she probably looks like an idiot. He has a bit of a point, she has been making assumptions-her line about "He's one of those guys who's attractive and definitely knows it" comes to mind. Not that he should know that.

"Let's just go back to the book," she says tightly. He looks amused about something, and she wants to ask him what it is, but her better judgement stops her.

"Okay, so Anderson wrote The Snow Queen about a real woman, a woman with with snow and ice powers who he was in love with. That's the theory."

"Do they know who it is?" Elsa asks.

"It's kind of difficult to tell, because he was in love with a lot of different women," Jack says. "But the authors think it's a woman named Ingiara, a noblewoman."

"He was in love with a lot of women?" Elsa asks. "How many?"

Jack shrugs. "I don't know. As many as the stories he wrote, I guess. Most of the stories he wrote because he was frustrated that they didn't love him back."

"That's weird." Elsa says.

"I think it was supposed to be romantic," Jack says.

"Well, it's not," Elsa says. "They said no and he literally wrote a whole story about them. Talk about not taking a hint. Also, The Snow Queen? That's so unfair to write a story like that about someone."

"Obviously, she was cold to him," Jack says.

"Maybe he deserved that coldness," Elsa shoots back. They're heading back into dangerous territory again: the only place they ever seem to head. "Maybe he was arrogant and assumed that everyone should like him." She's aware that she's not completely talking about Anderson anymore. Slow down, Elsa, she thinks.

"Maybe she was-" Jack starts, but there's a loud scraping sound, and Elsa turns to see a red haired girl pushing open one of the glass double doors. She's wearing a nordic sweater and skinny jeans, and carrying a bag.

"Anna?" Elsa says. Her stomach drops.

Anna puts her hands on her hips. "We need to talk, Elsa."

* * *

><p>AN: Hope you enjoyed this! Please tell me what you think.


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